The mirrors and the unacknowledged knots
Dial tones and license plates,
and words you didn't choose
Everything the day's too small to hold,
spills onto the dusk,
and shortens the evening's feuds
So you fumble for a voice,
and sing happy birthday

Read it to yourself again;
stories always end the same
He can't stay but she won't run;
the fear is where they're calling from

Stunts the blood from countless tiny cuts,
but we're all out of bandages
The heater's rattle taunt
Sifting through translucent shards of glass,
looking for the filament,
that lit the life you want
So you stumble for the phone,
grasp with chord and you pull

Will your leadership complain,
stories always end the same
She can't stay but he won't run;
the fear is where they're calling from

Afraid is where you're calling from

Afraid is where we lived for far too long